


The Big Bad Wolf

by Idonquixote



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, Green Witch Arc, M/M, Sebastian kind of likes it, Seme Wolfram, Sub Sebastian, This pairing needed to happen, Torture, Wolfram is not nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:27:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2369351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idonquixote/pseuds/Idonquixote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian angers the German butler. Wolfram decides that some punishment is in order. The big bad wolf is not a force to be reckoned with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Big Bad Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> I have no explanation for this, other than the fact that I really wanted this to happen. First time writing this kind of scene. The smut is not-too-explicit, but a bit more than I usually do.

The human body is frail. Sebastian feels nothing in the acute sense, but he knows this body he occupies is suffering. It's shivering, light goosebumps forming on his cold, pale skin. He feels nothing, but the body does. It cries and bleeds and shakes and sweats- how interesting, he thinks.  
  
He licks the batter off his fingers, eyeing the window of the old cabin. The glass is covered in frost, snow blowing all around. The German should be back soon. Sebastian smirks. Wolfram does so hate to be outdone, and the meal Sebastian is preparing will surely put him to shame. He can't wait to see the frustration.  
  
The body shivers once more, a tingle of pleasure in his loins. Who knows what Wolfram will do?   
  
He remembers the vein popping in the man's head, his face going red, as he dragged Sebastian out Lady Sullivan's tower. Wolfram had smashed him into the snow, yanked him by the hair, throttled him in front of all onlookers.  _Set foot here again, and I will rip you limb from limb,_  he had growled.  
  
Sebastian had been taken by the raw hatred, the sheer force of will, the sudden burst in Wolfram's essence. But somewhere in all that, he found desire. Oh, if the witch's butler had truly hated him, he wouldn't be here. Because Wolfram had chosen to stick him in this cabin, far enough from the village's sight but still within the tower's range.  
  
It was workable- it would take Sebastian no time at all to find the young master if he was needed. He trusted that young Sieglinde would treat the boy well until then. Wolfram claimed it was a favor to the lady, to let Sebastian live. He was warned against the snow.  _It will make your blood turn to ice. Then they will devour you from head to toe_ , Wolfram had uttered as he locked the door.  
  
A long time ago, Sebastian would have fought back. Perhaps he would have killed Wolfram. But he is different now. He wants to watch these humans. He wants to know how a man like Wolfram would act with this body. It's a beautiful body, Sebastian knows, but never had it seemed one to be dominated. Wolfram is the first human who looked it as such.  
  
So he will let do the human do what he wants.   
  
His tailcoat is gone, stripped from him and tossed in the fireplace. He remembers the way Wolfram pinned him down, the savage way he tore the articles away, a hungry wolf chomping on his prey. Wolfram had taken everything, leaving not even a sock. The wolf wanted him cold.  
  
And Sebastian knows the body is oh so cold.  
  
He touches the flimsy rag tied around his waist. Regardless of how amusing this is, he cannot tolerate walking around indecently. He finishes licking the batter. He turns the fire off the stove.  
  
The door creaks behind him. The steps come in heavy thuds. The wolf is back in his den.  
  
"Was your journey enjoyable?" Sebastian asks, a smile on his lips, his tone as pleasant as can be.  
  
Wolfram does not answer him. The German sheds his coat and trudges toward the stove. Flecks of ice cling to his rough sideburns and trace his thick brows. Vulgar, masculine, almost heroic in his rugged beauty.  
  
Sebastian's musings stop when Wolfram lifts the souffle with his bare hands, not even flinching from the heat. He tears a chunk off with his teeth. Then he throws it on the ground. A foot crushes the remains.  
  
Wolfram swallows. His eyes fall on Sebastian, as if challenging the smaller butler to protest. Sebastian raises a brow.  
  
"Who gave you permission to cook?" Wolfram demands.  
  
"I-"  
  
Wolfram cuts him off. He steps closer, grabbing Sebastian by the wrists and pulling him forward. "And what is this?" One hand lets go and falls in the rag. "I told you to wear nothing."  
  
His voice is a heated growl, raw and emotional and enough to make the demon shiver. Wolfram rips the rag away.  
  
"Was it to your liking?" Sebastian asks, answering nothing.  
  
Wolfram squeezes until skin bruises. He pushes Sebastian toward the stove. And without warning, he lifts the black-haired man up and places him on top. Sebastian's eyes widen for a fraction when he feels the burn on his buttocks.   
  
"It was delicious," Wolfram says, licking his lips.  
  
His hands are on Sebastian's shoulders, keeping the other butler on the stove. Sebastian grits his teeth, the smell of charred flesh most unpleasant. Wolfram takes in the smell, hungrily sniffing the air.  
  
It was delicious. And now Sebastian will be punished. He senses the cue in Wolfram's eyes.  
  
Wolfram lets go and Sebastian jumps off. The German strikes him in the jaw. His other arm comes and clobbers. Sebastian reels to the ground, tangy blood in his mouth. His loins burn. It has been so long since he's been faced with such raw masculinity.   
  
Wolfram crouches over him, heaving. His muscles contract inside the uniform, ripping with each movement. He pushes on Sebastian's chest, bruising ribs and leaving his mark. Wolfram bites, inelegant and desperate. Sebastian feels his own skin tear, turn from white to red, bleed from the marks and wounds.  
  
Wolfram's gloves are gone. He drags Sebastian by the legs and slams him over the damaged souffle. Wolfram bends and smears the leftovers over Sebastian's face, toying with his prey, ready to lick and eat and mate. Sebastian can wait no longer. He pretends his burnt bottom is in pain, he pretends the various injuries hurt, he pretends he is human- Sebastian moans, parting his lips enough to gasp.  
  
Wolfram descends. His teeth scrape the food off, tongue lapping at the skin. Wolfram's mouth traces him from the hair to the torso, angry hands groping all the while. Sebastian groans.  
  
Wolfram stands when he is done. Sebastian lies prone, body bruised and cold and oh so hot inside. He hears the fussing of a belt. He sees the German's trousers drop. It is a glorious package, as large and deep as Wolfram is. A wolf in the throes of desire.  
  
"I told you I would rip you limb from limb," Wolfram says, kicking Sebastian in the side.  
  
He falls on all fours, strong limbs wrapping around the demon. He is warm, strikingly hot, and Sebastian is nearly burned. Wolfram grinds behind him, pounding into the other butler with a furious lack of mercy. Hot, pained blood leaves the entrance.  
  
Sebastian finds himself gasping. He moans. He cries out.  
  
Huff and puff. Huff and puff.  
  
"Wolf- wolf-!" he cries.  
  
It is a blissful, damned eternity before Wolfram stops. The sweaty bulk of a body rolls off Sebastian. The demon wonders if it is finally time for respite. He is wrong.  
  
Wolfram tackles him again, ripping locks of black hair from his head. This time Wolfram's manhood strikes him all over. He gags over it, chokes in between, begs for it, pleads for none, goads for more. When it's over, Sebastian is sticky, Wolfram's semen marking him complete.  
  
The body is so warm now, sweat leaving in waterworks. And everything hurts and aches so well. The demon grins.  
  
"Come here, you," Wolfram demands, orders.  
  
No, it is unlike the young master's. This order is without obligation, a powercall of the wolf's pure unadulterated need to break. Sebastian desperately crawls toward him- how much more does his body need to break before Wolfram is satisfied?  
  
Wolfram is impatient- he pulls Sebastian into his lap. "Three punishments for three offenses."  
  
Wolfram grabs his discarded belt, tightens it about his hands, and brings it down on Sebastian's healing bottom. The belt is rough and freezing, striking flesh and blood. Each strike is harder than the last, faster, stronger.  
  
Sebastian can only hear the whoosh of the whipping. Wolfram's other hand is pressing on his head, forcing his face into the larger man's flesh. The demon's body vibrates as the blows move up. It flays his back and comes at his limbs. The beating follows rapidly and Sebastian now knows what he must do.  
  
He tries to scream. The cries are muffled. Wolfram attacks with more fervor, manhood hardening. Oh yes, this is what he wanted.   
  
Sebastian hears the belt hit the floor. Wolfram flips him over. Nails claw at Sebastian's bruised face, savage cuts in their wake. Then Wolfram crashes his mouth over his. The teeth gnash and bite. Sebastian tastes the man's saliva and his own blood.  
  
When he's done, Wolfram stands, taking Sebastian with him. He hoists the supposed Englishman up and swings him over his shoulder. Sebastian gasps in pleasure- the grip is so firm, so brutal, so wolfish.  
  
"Where to now?" he asks, mildly surprised at the hoarseness in his voice.  
  
Wolfram doesn't answer. He strides toward the door, strong big steps. And then there is nothing but white. The snow filters about them. Wolfram slams Sebastian down.  
  
The demon hits the snow with an audible crunch. His burning body cools. The snow drifts. Wolfram stands over him, panting, sweating, shivering, naked and raw. His eyes roam Sebastian with a hint of cruel satisfaction.  
  
Sebastian knows what he must look like now. His lips torn, his face scratched, hair disheveled, body bruised and gashed in horrifying shades, buttocks ripped and charred, every inch of skin bleeding from some wound, his body naked, bare, weak, and broken in the merciless cold. And Wolfram is sweating above, pulsing with fervor, triumphant in his perceived rivalry.  
  
This is what happens when one challenges the big bad wolf. Sebastian sighs. How cliched. But how tantalizing.  
  
Wolfram stomps on his chest, the foot pressing down. "You  _will_  stay here until I return. The cold will rip you apart. And only I can put you back."  
  
A rib cracks. "And then,  _Sebastian_ -"  
  
The rib snaps. "I will break you up again."  
  
Wolfram leers once more before turning his back. Sebastian hears the cabin door click. He stares up at the snow, body itching as it struggles to mend. It would be a long, amusing time ahead.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed that! Feel free to leave kudos/comments


End file.
